


Young Volcanoes

by Elle Blessingway (elle_blessing)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: dmpp_ldws, Drabble Collection, Draco/Pansy Last Drabble Writer Standing, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-12
Updated: 2010-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:46:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_blessing/pseuds/Elle%20Blessingway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entries for the 2010 Draco/Pansy Last Drabble Writer Standing (dmpp_ldws) community at LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night of the Hunters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Warnings:**  
>  **Notes:** The prompt was [this piece of art](http://pilpina77.deviantart.com/gallery/#/dia9tw) (also displayed in the banner below).

  
A heavy step pulled their attention towards the alley’s mouth. “Security,” Draco hissed, their eyes meeting moments later.  
  
There were no other words, no hesitation. They moved in tandem; he pushed her back against the brick wall and her fingers hooked into his belt to tug him flush against her. Their mouths met, and when Pansy heard the step hesitate – they had been spotted – she slid her hands up Draco’s chest and around his neck as he smoothed one down to bare skin. With practiced ease, Draco hooked her leg around his hip even as he shifted into the crook of hers.  
  
Their observer yet lingered, and Pansy wound her fingers into Draco’s hair and bit his lip - _hard_. If this weren’t so very serious, she would have smirked against his mouth as he growled, gripped her thigh and rolled his hips into hers. She knew his buttons.  
  
The booted step did move on then, and Draco took a breath to speak, but Pansy held a finger to her lips - _quiet_. She had better hearing. Only when she was absolutely sure there were no listening ears did she relax, dark eyes finding his.  
  
“I love you, darling, but leather trou?” she said dryly, raising a brow at her partner as they drew apart.  
  
“Nice tattoo, Pans.” Draco countered, smirking as her eyes narrowed. “Very classy.”  
  
“Yes, well, we do what we must,” she said airily before moving past him and out of the alleyway. The club – and their target – was across the street, and by the look of it, their research into the hotspot had been accurate. It was obviously _the_ place to be in Amsterdam – if your tastes swerved very sharply to the left. The line wrapping around the building was populated with more leather, mesh and spikes than Pansy cared to see again.  
  
“Did you get the passes?” Draco’s gaze flicked to the bouncers at the doors.  
  
“No. It’s too calculated.” At Draco’s quick look, she added, “They’re going to let us in because we’re fabulous, darling. It’s not nearly so suspicious.”  
  
Her lips twitched then and she reached up to wipe his mouth clean. “This lipstick, however, makes me doubtful.”  
  
“It tastes good,” he volunteered with a smirk.  
  
“Or course it does.” As if it wouldn’t. “Now, do try to be properly lascivious and get us in there. We’ve a very bad man to punish.”


	2. My Boy Builds Coffins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** G  
>  **Warnings:** None.  
>  **Notes:** The prompt for Challenge 2 was ' _A friend is one who knows us, but loves us anyway._ ' - a quote by Fr. Jerome Cummings. This is a snippet, or 'deleted scene', from HBP as Draco was recovering from Harry's attack in Myrtle's loo.

“ _Ow_.”  
  
“You sound like a dying kneazle. Do _shut up_ ,” Pansy said irritably. If she was more rough than necessary as she smoothed salve into the weals on Draco’s back, such was dismissed.  
  
“I almost died, Pans.” He knew he sounded whiny, but these moments with Pansy were the only semblance of normalcy he had left. He had a mission – kill Dumbledore – and he was failing miserably. Voldemort would kill him. It was too bad Harry had failed; death at the Scarhead’s wand would have been a mercy in comparison.  
  
“No, you _will_ die,” she hissed, reaching around to snatch his arm and hold up his wrist. “ _This_ will kill you.” There was a slight tremor in her voice, but she ignored it. “Idiot.”  
  
Sobered, Draco glanced back at her. “I had to. You know I did.”  
  
Their eyes met, and in such close proximity the heat of their breath mixed. Pansy’s heart sped and she could feel the answering, quickened pulse beneath her hand. She didn’t know what she would do if he was taken from her, and the very thought made her chest tighten.  
  
Pulling her gaze away, she released him and ignored his searching gray eyes to continue her task.  
  
“Pans…”  
  
“I love you and I always will, but turn around, shut up and let me worry unobserved.” Her fingers were gentle on the slashing, magical wounds now. “Please.”  
  
He turned around and stilled under her ministrations, but his jaw tensed, and he glared at the Dark Mark on his arm. It would take everything important from him.  
  
“There. All done, and you even managed to keep a tenuous grasp on your manhood.”  
  
“Bitch.”  
  
“Thank you, darling.”  
  
The corner of his mouth twitched up and Draco turned the Dark Mark away from view. “I love you, too.”


	3. The Weight of Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Warnings:** Swearing.  
>  **Notes:** The prompt was _The couple that fights the most is the one most in love... it shows they care enough to notice the other one screwed up and care enough to mention it to the person so they can fix it. When you stop fighting it means you stopped caring._ \- Shawna Waltemyer. I'm not really a fighter, not in the sense this quote is talking about, so trying to come up with something true to the spirit of the prompt was difficult for me.

“You smell like something that belongs at the bottom of the dung heap.” Pansy raised her brow. A bottle hung precariously from his fingers and the amber liquid sloshed as Draco stirred awake.  
  
“ _Shite_. Shedevilpieceofshite.” It was a voice he’d dreaded hearing.  
  
Pansy watched in disgust as the bottle fell from his grasp to spill on the wood floor. “I see you’ve been reduced to the lowly state of a Weasley.”  
  
“Just fuck off, Pans. No one asked for your shite opinions.” The light shining through the drapes was doing nothing for his headache, and he leveled a glare at the woman standing before him – the perfectly put together and beautiful woman, he noted sourly.  
  
“Perhaps you _ought_ have asked for my opinions,” she said, heat lacing her words. “You wouldn’t be marked by the bloody devil, hungover and alone.” That she was _hurt_ he’d left her, hadn’t trusted she could handle the path he had chosen, went unsaid.  
  
“Maybe I should have,” he snapped. “I should have done a lot of things. I should have listened to my mother, should have been stronger, wiser, better. Maybe if I’d been bloody shite _Potter_ , you’d be happy.” He stalked to the window and pulled the drapes shut.  
  
Pansy wasn’t sure what she wanted more; to hex his bollocks or cry. She settled for slapping him across the face. “You _left_ me. You left me with my _father_. How could you have done that?”  
  
His cheek stung, but it was peripheral. Pansy’s eyes were glistening. Despite the anger tinting her words, he could hear the girl he’d fallen for before the world had come apart. “Pans…”  
  
“ _No_ ,” she bit out, shaking her head. “You don’t get to say my name like that and expect everything will be alright. You don’t get to wallow in your mistakes for _years_ and even _think_ you deserve anything we had.”  
  
Her words sobered him more than any potion could have. He _didn’t_ deserve her. He didn’t deserve anything – not after everything he’d done and failed to do. His threadbare existence in a shitehole flat with firewhiskey as a bedpartner wasn’t penance – it was bloody _indulgence._  
  
He sighed. “Why are you here? To rub in how I failed you?” He laughed mirthlessly. “I think I got it, Pans.”  
  
She peered up at him. “Do you really have to ask that?” The moisture disappeared and she was glaring again. “It took me months to find you. Dedicated effort. Bloody hell, Draco. I hired several investigators. Why do you _think_ I’m here?”  
  
Before she could second guess herself, Pansy reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair. If there’d been questions, they disappeared as lips came together, _drank_. Despite the taste of firewhiskey on his tongue, he stole her breath.  
  
For all the self-doubt that had brought him here, he kissed her as he always had; deeply, thoroughly, and intensely. She tasted like cinnamon spice and smelled of crushed rose petals. It was home. _She_ was home.


	4. Cupid's Chokehold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** G  
>  **Warnings:** None.  
>  **Notes:** The prompt for Challenge 4 was _If a relationship is to evolve, it must go through a series of endings._ \- Lisa Moriyama

“Would you like sugar in your tea?”  
  
Draco eyed Pansy doubtfully. "This is a terrible game."  
  
Pansy straightened and glared at the loathsome blond boy. "Maybe you're just not very good at it."  
  
"Maybe _you're_ just boring and stupid." She wasn't. Greg and Vincent were much worse, but at least they didn’t ‘play tea’.  
  
"Maybe _you're_ just too much of a _boy_ to understand." Pansy sniffed and smoothed her hands over her pink dress.  
  
"Maybe _you_ just look like a frilly pink poodle," Draco countered. He was _nine_. His mother called him a little _man_.  
  
Pansy narrowed her eyes at him even as she reached for the teapot and dumped the contents all over Draco. "I hate you and I'm never, ever speaking to you again."  
  
He was sopping wet and the tea was a little too warm for comfort, but Draco glared after her and her bouncing curls. "I hate you more!"

...

It was odd to both crave and loathe something at the same time. Pansy loved the way Draco pressed her against the wall, how he nipped at her lips, the way his fingers skimmed featherlight down her sides until he gripped her hips. It was _thrilling_.  
  
She somewhat hated that she loved it so much. It would make him terribly smug if he knew.  
  
"If you stop, I shall have to maim you," she breathed as he brushed his lips down her neck.  
  
"Maybe I'll stop just to see what happens," he mumbled against her skin, hands finding their way beneath her jumper to the burning flesh beneath.  
  
"I've no qualms about hurting you, Draco."  
  
He smirked, gaze finding hers. "I always knew you were a sadist."  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
"Come on. You know you want to." His eyes lit in anticipation.  
  
The slap of skin echoed in the deserted hall and moments later a slightly disheveled Pansy was stalking away, leaving a red hand-print and smirking blond behind.

...

"Don't even think it."

Draco hesitated with only a hairsbreadth between their bodies. "Pans…"  
  
"If you touch me, I'll do something," she said. Pansy tried to keep her voice level, but she couldn't hide the slight tremble. "I'll leave a mark. Passion. Anger. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're getting married and I refuse to be second best. If you care about me at _all_ , Draco Malfoy, you will step back. Now."  
  
He didn't move.  
  
"Draco," she whispered, glistening eyes finding his. " _Please_."  
  
His jaw clenched, but he stepped back.  
  
She let her breath out, relief and something like sorrow sluicing through her. "Goodbye," she whispered before slipping from the shadows.

...

"I was so thick." His hand was tight around her wrinkled, frail one.

"You were." Her voice was soft, almost gone.  
  
"I'm here now." Too late.  
  
She smiled, dark lashes brushing deathly white skin. "Just in time for the last goodbye."  
  
A droplet slid down his cheek. "I love you."  
  
"I know," she breathed, once, twice, and then no more.


	5. Stupid Cupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** G  
>  **Warnings:** None.  
>  **Notes:** The prompt was [this piece of art](http://i45.tinypic.com/2nuu3qg.jpg) by [Rotae](http://rotae.deviantart.com/). Unfortunately I got knocked out of the competition, but I did get a shiny banner :)

“I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?” Astoria queried wryly, eyes sliding to Pansy.  
  
“Mmm.” Pansy hummed, lips twitching she met Astoria’s gaze. “Just give them a few minutes. If they’re anything like Draco and I were as children, it will be threats and barbs any moment now.”  
  
Their amusement was turned to Scorpius and Violet as they moved incrementally closer on the stone bench across the garden. Little hands clasped and the two children moved hesitantly towards each other. Pansy smiled, a flash of honest amusement. The picture was _so_ like she and Draco at that age - best of friends, but fascinated by their differences.  
  
Their offspring would apparently repeat history.  
  
She chuckled when Scorpius and Violet pulled apart, blushing and blinking at each other after the innocent kiss. “It won’t be long now, Astoria,” she murmured, gaze intent on the duo. “Your little dragon has a mouth just like his father.”  
  
“Which I’ll take as a compliment,” Draco said to announce his presence. A smirk was tossed at Pansy before he bent to press a kiss to his wife’s cheek.  
  
Astoria swatted him away, though a tiny smile played at her lips. “Do be quiet else you’ll startle them,” she chided softly.  
  
Three sets of eyes tracked back to Scorpius and Violet, and to their vast amusement, it devolved as predicted; Scorpius said something, Violet’s features shuttered and she glared at him. Moments later she pushed him over the back of the bench into the flowers. An indignant yelp pierced the buzzing and chirps of the garden and then Violet dove after him, intent on finishing the job.  
  
“At least it wasn’t roses,” Draco said.  
  
Astoria glanced up at him, curiosity evident in her features.  
  
“Violet is like her mother, to be sure, but not so vicious. Pansy always liked to enlist the help of the thorned roses in mother’s garden.”  
  
Astoria raised a brow, lips twitching. “And I’m sure you well deserved it.”  
  
“To say the least,” Pansy said as she struggled to reign in her smile at Draco’s huff.


End file.
